[EV-PP-F29] Anomaly | <<Fatal Error>>

[Morningstar 0]

WARNING: Spoilers for <<To Shine a Light>>
you may want to write the quest first. it's fun. do it.

Morningstar | Lv.77 | HP: 860/860 | EN: 122/122

Morningstar, deep in his work, had completely missed Wulfrin’s party leaving the outpost. He scribbled and scrawled vague notes in undecipherable shorthand. In a cage across the room was a Shambler. It lay so still, one might have thought it dead.

Graycott Point was still fresh in his memory. If he listened hard enough, he thought he could hear the toll of the foghorn through the ruckus outside. When he looked at his captive, he thought of the lighthouse keeper, trapped in a world he wished to relinquish. Morningstar could not grant him that wish.

“The real question: What do we do with this thing?”

“I think we should leave him. He's not hurting anyone like this.”

He collapsed wearily into the closest chair. The Floor 29 Trackers Alliance outpost had been built for two reasons: to have a home base for local scouting and to act as a stronghold to keep the monsters at bay. Experimentation was never their mission, and so they were unequipped for their new task.

Bee walked hastily into the room, looking over her shoulder before she shut the door. The 29th made her uneasy, and Morningstar knew that. At her level, without safezones, risk of death skyrocketed.

“Sorry,” Morningstar said. “I hate to make you come here.”

“It’s okay,” she lied, tiptoeing down the short staircase that opened into the laboratory. “It’s best that I get used to places like this—being a healer and all.”

Star smiled. When Bee was dishonest, she spoke in a higher tone. She couldn’t have realized it.

“I’m working by the book right now. Nothing’s worked so far. Health crystals were useless--not that I expected them to do anything. Same with my Crystal of Support. I’m running out of system-based solutions to try.”

“That’s why you called me,” she knelt down beside the cage, peering at the creature inside. It stared back with grey bug eyes. “Do you really think there’s anything left of… whoever they were?”

He stopped writing. “No.”

She cocked her head, glancing up at him. “Then why do all this?”

“Because they deserve better.”

[Bee 0]

Bee | Lv.6 | HP: 120/120 | EN: 30/30

He hesitated before the cage. Dying Sun had the habit of hurting its foes, but it was the only form of paralysis they had. The Shambler needed to be sedated for Bee to safely attempt her skills. He drew his blade and stuck it between the bars of the cage. The Shambler squirmed, letting out a screech at the sight of the weapon.

“I’m sorry,” Star muttered, jabbing the creature as gently as possible. He did it again. And again. Over and over, he stabbed it until the paralysis took effect.

Bee watched in silence.

“Start with First Aid,” Morningstar requested. “Just so we can rule it out.”

She nodded and unlocked the cage. A green glow formed over her hands, shimmering like water in sunlight. She touched the sedated creature and the glow spread across its body like a blanket. The wounds on its chest closed up and its health bar rose.

It worked as expected. The Shambler was healed, but its monstrous form remained. Morningstar made note of this and moved on.

“Try Purify,” he said.

She did. This time the glow was aquamarine. A fresh smell wafted into the air. It was mint, he realized. It hung there while she performed the purification. Nothing happened.

Star rubbed his eyes. “What else do you have?”

“Nothing,” she frowned. “Nothing that would help, anyway.”

He crossed purify off his list. There was nothing below it. He had tried just about every item and skill that existed, minus the ones he couldn’t get his hands on.

“Close the gate then,” he said, swiping open his friends list. “If I could convince someone to go to the Champion’s Hall for me—”

Bee let out a shrill scream, and Morningstar immediately went for his sword.

As Bee went to lock the cage, the Shambler lunged at her, shooting out of the cage and wrapping its inky tentacles around her arms and throat. Her scream was cut short as it constricted around her. In one swing, Morningstar freed her, cutting through all of the tentacles at once. He kicked the Shambler back in the cage and shut the gate with a slam. The lock clicked, and the monster was trapped.

[Morningstar 0]

He took Bee down the hall, away from the creature. A health crystal and a snack was the best treatment Morningstar could come up with. She was tough. She had been inches towards death, but she was okay. The paralysis wore off quicker than either of them expected. It killed Morningstar that he had been stupid enough to let her anywhere near the Shambler, knowing full well what her level was. He left her to herself, but stayed near by in case she needed him. It wasn’t a safezone, but mobs usually steered clear of the outpost, choosing their lives over succumbing to Morningstar’s blade.

He returned to his studies, etching down his thoughts in his journal.

Nothing is working. Whatever transformed the people of this floor into monsters is immune to healing items, skills, debuffs. Nothing is working. I never really believed it would. I just had to try. I wonder now if we’ve been wasting our time. What was the point of giving us a choice? I almost feel like I should go back to the lighthouse. Maybe we missed something. Or maybe I was wrong. Maybe we were meant to kill the Shambler in the cage. Maybe

 

 

 

 

 

 

“What the—”

He swatted at the “New Quest” window that appeared before him. It blocked his vision, glitching uncontrollably. A high-pitched buzz stung his ears as all of the colours of the rainbow teleported around his field of view, mixing with the crackling fuzziness of a television with no signal. It ate away at his sight until only two words remained in view: FATAL ERROR.

Then, it stopped.

He was sprawled on the floor, panting frantically. His ears rang, the sound of the quest panel lingering in his mind in spite of room’s silence. His chair had toppled over, which caused him to fall, but physically, he was unharmed.

What felt like an eternity had only been a few minutes. He sat up and rubbed his eyes with his palms. He was suddenly very tired.

[Bee 0]

Bee shut her eyes, waiting for the ringing to end. She leaned over the table and buried her head in her arms. FATAL ERROR was burned into her eyes; even closed, she could still see the faded remains of those two words. She stayed there, waiting, long after the window had vanished, until she heard her name being called.

“Bee?” came Morningstar from the room over. When she didn’t answer, he called again.

She raised her head. “Still here,” she managed.

He stumbled around the corner, his face paler than usual. “Did you see that too?”

Bee could only nod, trying to catch her bearings. She hadn’t full processed the Shambler yet, let alone the mystery message.

Morningstar sat down across from her, stealing a cracker from her mostly untouched plater. After a while, she asked, “what the hell is Fatal Error?”

“Fuck if I know,” Star replied.

Simultaneously, they whipped open their quest logs. Sure enough, something new had been automatically accepted. The quest objective flickered every few seconds. The Sword of Kings has been removed from its rightful place. Until it is returned, the path forward will remain blocked, and the corruption will continue to spread, it read. No additional context was provided, which was unusual for a quest.

“Ominous,” Morningstar finally said.

[Morningstar 0]

An uproar in Ilridge followed the introduction of Fatal Error. Everybody wanted to be the one to find the so-called Sword of Kings and the general consensus was that it would be hidden somewhere on Floor 29. Thankfully, the wave of players skewed higher in levels; the safe zone dwellers had learned their lesson the first time and (for the most part) did not want a repeat of day one.

Morningstar and Bee could hear them from the base. The TA outpost was located in Ilridge, near the center. The guild collectively decided that it was best not to position themselves too close to the teleporter in case they had to play tower defense with the monsters once again. Last time, the swarm of both mobs and players bottlenecked access to it, leaving many stranded. They didn’t want to be caught in the middle of that again.

Ilridge was a trainwreck. There had to be hundreds of players gathered in the town square alone. Streets that were normally empty were now bustling. Players trekked down each and every street, arguing amongst themselves about where they might find the stolen sword. It was the perfect setup for a wipe.

“These people are idiots,” Morningstar scowled, peering through a crack in the front door. The building was windowless, so the entrances were their only means of scouting from safety. This was intentional; the less opportunity for mobs to see them, the better.

“What if they’re not?”

“What?” Morningstar turned to look at Bee.

She was watching the Shambler struggle in its cage. She wore a solemn expression, unable to take her eyes off it. “What if the sword is what you’re looking for? The quest said the corruption will continue to spread if the sword isn’t found.”

Her gaze met Morningstar’s. “I think the sword is the cure.”

[Bee 0]

They sat around a table, ignoring the tumultuous screeching coming from the other room. The Shambler was in an uproar, but that wasn’t so unusual. It happened from time to time; eventually, it would tire itself out and quiet down. Morningstar tried not to let it bother him. He was holding it captive after all.

“Okay, but say the sword is the cure. How do we find it?” Morningstar asked.

Bee kicked her feet up on the table top, wobbling back and forth in her unleveled chair. “I dunno. You’re the expert. Where do you normally start?”

“Brokers. Bistro, these days. But I can’t imagine they know much more than we do.”

“Then what do you do when brokers don’t know anything? How did you figure out Stylahm?”

He thought back to his Floor 9 expedition. “I guess I just went into field; looked around myself. It’s slow, but it does the trick.”

“So then step one: we need some ideas. You know this floor better than I do. Where would you start looking?”

Morningstar stared into space for a moment. “It’ll be somewhere notable. I doubt they’d just throw it into the ocean somewhere and say ‘hey, go fetch’.” He placed a crystal in the middle of the table and tapped it on. A translucent blue map materialized, displaying an overhead view of the floor. “We’re here,” he said, pointing to Ilridge.

Dozens of towns dotted the lands of Floor 29, but only two were worth considering. “It could be here in Ilridge. But I figure that’s too easy. There’s also Miremore. It’s here,” he tapped on the town. “It’s a fishing village on the coast. Nobody really goes there, from what I know. Probably because it smells rancid. Perfect place to hide a weapon, though.”

“Assuming it’s hidden at all,” Bee retorted. “The sword was removed, remember? For all we know, someone still has it.”

“Too many missing variables. For a second, let’s assume it is hidden. I’d wipe most of these towns off our list, as well as Graycott. I was just there a while ago. It’s related, obviously, but I’d be surprised if the sword was dropped in the same place as the letter,” he said, unintentionally vague about his findings at Graycott Point.

“That basically leaves Kineallan Parish. What’s that?”

“A church. I’ve only been once,” he explained. “You’re staying away from it. It’s not safe.”

Bee didn’t argue. Nothing was safe on Floor 29.